The Looking Glass
by Sylvan
Summary: A sort of prequel to the manga: Dinah has been hearing some strange things since she moved to Bizenghast a few months ago, and now she can see them, too, but no one else believes her. It seems she's crossed over to the otherside of the looking glass.
1. Isolation Prologue

Author's Note: Originally, I was just going to write a couple pages about Dinah's thoughts on everyone thinking she's crazy and finding Vincent, who believes her. But everyone seemed to like my last Bizenghast fic and wanted me to write more, and after reading over all the preview stuff, I had an idea for something longer. So, here ya go. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, and I might have to put it on hold from time to time, since I've got so much going on right now, but I'm expecting this one to be three or four parts and explore different stages in Dinah's "madness." Hope you enjoy!

Part One – Isolation

Prologue

"TRAGIC AUTO ACCIDENT IN DRURY" – five words that had turned Dinah's life upside down, printed out on a scrap of newsprint. They never did give her time to adjust, to let the meaning sink in. Less than a week after the terrible accident that killed her parents, Dinah was starting over with her aunt in a tiny, broken down town in Massachusetts – Bizenghast.

There was nothing in Bizenghast. Entering the town was like stepping through a time warp, waking up suddenly in the early 20th century, or at least the remains of it. It was the first town Dinah had ever seen without a movie theatre, without any shops, and without any new buildings. She had a telephone, but the object was an antique, a rotary phone, the likes of which she didn't believe anyone had made in many years. People had cars, but they seldom passed her way, and they, too, had a look about them of being ancient and on the verge of falling to pieces.

The antiquity of her surroundings was fascinating and frustrating. Dinah had always admired the artwork of the past, but Bizenghast was a faded photograph of what had been. The past was no longer an appealing curiosity to occupy her mind; it permeated the very air she breathed.

The very people were old; there were no children. Aunt Jane was always ordering Dinah outside, out of the house, outside, out from underfoot, outside, to amuse herself. Dinah hated outside. The air outside was colder and not just from the weather – which always felt like late fall. The quiet rustling of the wind, the hushed voices of children that weren't there, it all reminded her of a cemetery.

All these months later, Dinah finally knew the truth. In Bizenghast, the world was dead.


	2. Isolation Chapter 1

Author's Note: Yay, chapter one is up! Had a little trouble deciding where to start part one. I know exactly how two and three will go, but... well, ya know. Anyway, enjoy!

Part One – Isolation

Chapter One

Dinah stared at her aunt across the breakfast table, twirling her dark curls about her fingers nervously. She already knew what was coming; it was the same thing that came every time Jane Madison found her young niece in the attic. At thirty years old, the fair-haired woman had already lost her respect for youthful curiosity. So, she had resorted to sending the girl outside to entertain herself until school started.

But it wasn't as if Dinah was _trying_ to sneak about the attic. She'd wandered up there by mistake on her way back up to her room this morning. The house was so large that it was easy to get lost. Aunt Jane had never even cared before she started showing her what kind of artifacts she found up there – rusty surgical tools and medicinal powders. The last straw had been a human ear in a bottle of embalming fluid.

"Dinah," her aunt said firmly, "if you're done with your breakfast, you should go play outside. You shouldn't be rummaging about the house like that."

Dinah wanted to tell her that she hadn't been rummaging, and furthermore, there was nothing for her outside, but it would have been wasted effort. Aunt Jane never believed anything she said. Instead, she rose up from the table, offering only a simple "yes, ma'am" in reply.

The weather outside was comfortably cool, but a strange chill still surrounded Dinah as she wandered away from the house. She pulled her knee length, brown dress down as far over her legs as she could and straightened the collar of her white blouse, shuddering. The cold made her skin crawl and prickle with goose bumps that didn't come from physical chills. She was ready for September, when she'd be able to start school again. At least, then she wouldn't be confined to this strange, old house anymore.

It was mid-August, and the leaves already blanketed the ground. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember any of them looking particularly green, even in late spring. Coming to Bizenghast had been like falling down the rabbit hole and waking up in a perversion of the real world. Time didn't really seem to pass in Bizenghast. It just was.

She kicked at the leaves before as she made her way down to the swing that hung from a tree at the edge of the property. It, too, felt older than sin, the white stone grayed with age and the ropes frayed and brown. It was a wonder that the rope could even support Dinah, but it provided the only amusement she had.

The whole town felt faded, she thought as she pulled herself up into the swing – a mass of browns and grays without any intensity. Even she herself looked faded since she came here. Her complexion had grown paler, her choice of clothing more subdued, and even she had noticed that her once resplendent blue eyes looked haunted. Something in the town drained the life out of her blood.

She stood on the seat of the swing, grasping the worn ropes tightly as she shifted her weight to bring herself into motion. The wind blew her coffee-colored curls about her face, and she smiled faintly. She could hear birds chirping nearby, trilling out their songs.

Dinah found herself humming along with them. She loved birds. Before she came to live in Bizenghast, she'd had a little yellow canary, but Aunt Jane didn't like pets, and she didn't consider a nine-year-old responsible enough to care for even a small bird. In the end, a neighbor had agreed to take the beloved pet.

The rhythmic creaking of the swing seemed to grow louder, as the rustling of the trees stopped. The wind had ceased to move the air, and Dinah realized suddenly that the birds had fallen silent. She dropped her humming in mid-note, perturbed by the sudden quiet, and brought her swinging to an end.

The air felt even colder than before, as though night were fast approaching, but it wasn't even midday. Then she saw it – a tall, skeletal figure, moving across the lawn in long, slow steps. At such a distance, Dinah couldn't be sure what it was, but it frightened her. The stiff, unwieldy movements struck her as unnatural, and panic rose in a tremendous knot in her throat.

She threw herself from the swing, and stumbled into a run, trying to put as much distance between herself and the intruder as possible. The leaves flew up around her, catching on her clothes and in her hair, crunching beneath her feet, but the only thing she felt or heard was the pounding of her heart in her ears. Somehow, she knew hollow, lifeless eyes were following her, watching her from all around.

Her lungs ached, and her legs shook, but she pressed on, refusing to stop until she reached the house. With a final burst of energy, she bolted up the steps to the porch and threw the door open, staggering inside. As she slammed the door shut, the eyes vanished from her mind; she was out of sight of them, now. She leaned her back heavily against the wall, away from the windows and slid to the floor, gasping. A shaky sense of relief washed over her, and she closed her eyes. For the moment, she was safe.


	3. Isolation Chapter 2

Author's Note: Alright, so I've written some more (hopefully) creepiness... It was pretty creepy to me sitting up alone at 3 and 4 o' clock in the morning writing it anyway. Nothing'll get too terribly bizarre till part two, though... which is coming up after another couple of chapters, most likely. This is the shortest part. And I've decided that the story will most likely be three parts. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Part One – Isolation

Chapter Two

"Dinah, what are you doing in here?"

Dinah raised her head wearily, laboring for breath. Her aunt stood over her, hands on her hips, an irritated expression displayed on her serious face. "There's something out there," she gasped out, getting to her feet.

Aunt Jane glanced out the window, frowning. "What?"

"A man, I think – a tall, skinny man, like a walking skeleton. He was coming toward me."

Dinah's aunt looked down at her, scowling. "Dinah, no more of these silly games. You need to stop letting that overactive imagination get to you."

"But I _saw_ him," Dinah insisted, "and I think he saw me. He's still out there."

"_Enough_, Dinah! If you aren't going to play outside, fine, but go play in your room and stay out of the way, and I don't want to hear anymore of your stories."

Dinah nodded in resignation, making her way dejectedly back to her room. She knew better by now than to expect her guardian to believe her, but trying hadn't really made it any worse. At least Aunt Jane hadn't sent her back outside. She shuddered, still feeling the dead eyes upon her in her mind.

Dinah's room was on the first floor of the large house, a cozy room that served as her personal haven. She could spend hours alone, seated on the large, canopied bed or at the wooden desk, enthralled with a book, or drawing characters from her own imagination. She decided to occupy her time with the latter activity, taking up a notepad and pencil and slinging herself across her bed.

But the drawings she scratched out today weren't simple figments of her imagination, and they were far from those images typical of a girl Dinah's age. She drew the skeleton man, a faceless terror that shambled through the trees. She drew the Reaper, sticklike hands visible beneath a black cloak, face hidden in the shadows of his cowl. The Reaper was standing outside a window – her window.

Dinah jumped, startled to see where her sketch had led. She found herself looking nervously toward the window. The curtains were drawn back, revealing no ghastly figure, but it did nothing to ease her fears. Between her shoulder blades, she still felt an itch, as if someone were watching her.

She scrambled across the bed and rolled into the floor, crawling over to the window. She closed the curtains hurriedly, the room darkening. Leaning against the wall beside the casement, she closed her eyes, reminding herself that the drawing was only from her mind – not like the skeleton man.

Maybe he had moved on. There was no reason for him to come after _her_. Whatever his grievance, she had nothing to do with it. Yet, he had chased her. Maybe he did want something from her. Maybe he didn't care that she wasn't to blame.

A loud, screeching noise sounded at her window, like something hard and sharp scratching the glass. Dinah yelped, flinging her hands over her mouth to stifle the sound, her eyes wide with fear. There was something outside, though she couldn't say how she knew.

Again, the scratching came, and Dinah hugged her knees to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Again and again and again – a clawing at her window, shrill and painful, and then, she heard a voice. "Let me in," it rasped, the sound like bone grating against bone. "Let me in! Open the window!"

Dinah clamped her hands over her ears, trying to block out both the terrible sound and the horrible voice. But they passed cleanly through her hands, as if no obstruction blocked her hearing at all. She wanted to scream.

"I know you're in there! Let me in! _Goddamn you! Let me in!_"

"No!" Dinah shrieked, losing all semblance of self-control. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

"_Let me in, or I'll break in!_"

"No!" she screamed, jumping to her feet. "I won't! _I won't!_"

She tore from the room, shrieking as loudly as she could, wishing to drown out the terrible cries that followed her. Racing down the hall, she didn't see Aunt Jane until she had collided with her directly, nearly knocking her guardian off her feet. Her cries fell short as she tried to catch her balance.

"Dinah, what is the meaning of this?" her aunt demanded, steadying herself against the wall. "What are you screaming about?"

"There's – there's something at the window!" Dinah sobbed, clutching at the older woman's hands. "Aunt Jane, I was so scared!"

"What's at the window?" Aunt Jane looked around her niece, trying to see into the room.

"I don't know. I had the curtains closed. But I heard a voice, and someone was scratching on the glass!"

Aunt Jane untangled herself from Dinah wordlessly, starting into the room. She flicked on the light, looking about. There wasn't a sound.

Dinah hung in the doorway, clinging to the door fearfully as her aunt approached the window. "Aunt Jane, please don't," she began as the woman reached for the curtains.

Ignoring the child, Aunt Jane threw the curtains back, shaking her head in disgust. As before, no demon stood beyond the window. The source of the voice had fled. But for a moment, Dinah was sure that she saw scratch marks in the glass, streaked with blood.


End file.
